


Tweet Wars

by Skaiaa



Series: The other side of the screen [4]
Category: Youtube RPF, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Amy needs more love in this fandom, F/M, Feel-good, I gave them cellphones, Inspired by those extremely arrogant tweets Mark sent out yesterday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skaiaa/pseuds/Skaiaa
Summary: While on tour, Mark's social media takes a hit, but it's not in the way you'd expect. When confronting the source, Mark has to come to the realization that maybe his Tweets may have a little more meaning behind their sudden appearance





	Tweet Wars

Mark’s phone binged off the charts as he rested, waiting for the tour to kick off for the night, confused by what was going on, and why his account was exploding the way it did.

He silenced his phone and tried to sleep, but the thought that something had happened had him coming back to his device, which seemed to be overheating. He had his notifications off last time he checked, so what was going on?

When he saw his mentions, Mark began to get concerned. It looked like he was...Fighting? With himself?

What the actual hell?

“Hey, Amy?”

The girl raised a brow, sticking her head in his bunkspace. She’d be heading back home soon, but was spending all the time she could with her boyfriend before then.

“Yes?”

“Have I been tweeting weird shit?”

“Yeah, but we figured you were just being you.”

“That’s..I didn’t tweet that.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Amy, I’ve been asleep this entire time.”

“...”

“Either I left my Twitter open on one of the Crew’s phone, or we might be dealing with someone getting my info.”

“Didn’t you already change it?”

“Yeah, ever since the car break-ins, I reset everything.”

“And it isn’t easy to guess?”

“I don’t think so?”

“I guess change your info again, and delete the tweets if they’re too screwy?”

“They sound /exactly/ like me, that’s the thing that’s irking me. It’s literally quoting tweets I haven’t touched in two years, almost three. And you wanna know how I know that? Someone took pictures of each individual tweet I’ve sent with that quote.”

“Yeaah, that’s bad.”

“I think so as well. I’ll just play on it? It’s nothing bad, it’s just making my ego go out my damn skull.”

Amy checked her phone, pausing.

“Um.”

“Oh, God, what?”

“The fans are saying it’s the Egos?”

“...”

“Um, here, I’ll change your info, you go see if the boys have been messing with your twitter, and if they haven’t, we’ll figure something out.”

Mark handed her his phone and sighed, heading to the back of the tour bus, knocking on the wall.

“Hey, you all alright?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, why?” Wade asked, raising a brow.

“We don’t go on for another few hours,” Bob said, looking at his watch.

“I didn’t stay logged in on either of your phones, right?”

“Nah, we logged you out after you used it for live streaming.”

Mark sighed and his friends raised a brow.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just some fan, probably.”

He turned and headed further up on the tour bus, eyeing Ethan, who turned and looked at him quizzically, taking out his earbuds.

“What’s crackalackin’?”

“Did I stay logged into your phone?”

“Not that I can recall, no?”

“Dammit…”

“What’s the matter, Mark,” Ethan asked, sitting up and tilting his head.

“Okay, so there was a whole bunch of tweets that came into existence from my account not even an hour ago, right?”

“Yeah, you got a really fat head recently.”

“Ouch.”

“I meant your ego, dummy.”

“Still ouch. Anyway, I was asleep when those were sent out.”

“...”

“Someone has my account information, and they’re damned good at being me.”

“That’s shitty.”

“Yup..”

“Chin up, Mark, at least they didn’t hack your phone, just the account.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better, but that was an okay effort.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Mark sighed and ran a hand down his face, headed for the door of the tour bus.

“Where ya going?”

“Just out, I’ll be back in a few.”

“Alrighty, don’t miss rehearsal, we kinda really need you on the tour. I mean, we could give it to Bob, but then we’d have to rebrand.”

The Asian took a breath and looked around before going out the door, focusing on where he was headed, before walking into the separate plane of existence he needed to visit. He might as well ask what’s going on. He hadn’t seen them since the tour started, aside from a brief visit with Dark in the theatre for a skit.

Shutting the door behind him, Mark severed the bond and walked forward, headed up a sidewalk slowly piecing itself together in front of him. A house came into view as the scene built itself back, and Mark reached into his pocket, grabbing a key that materialized, and unlocked the door before stepping in, shutting it after him.

Ed was talking with Silver and blinked, raising a thick brow.

“Well, look’it here, it’s th’ creator.”

Silver booed.

Mark rolled his eyes.

“Have either of you seen Google?”

“He’s in the basement, like always.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Mark headed toward the basement, raising a brow at the hushed talking before knocking on the door.

There was shuffling and then the door opened, Bingiplier raising a brow before trying to shut the door again as his creator eyed the phone in his hand, opened to his social media account. Mark slammed himself into it and fought to get it open, grunting before Google came beside Bing and wrenched the door open, sending their creator sprawling.

“Pleasure to see you again, Creator.”

“Name’s Mark, but thanks?”

Yellow Google helped Mark up, brushing him off before going back to the computer he was tacking away at, eyeing the statistics of Mark’s Channel Popularity, murmuring to Green Google, who, in turn, murmured to Red Google.

“Damn, got a whole little organization down here, don’t you?”

“Yes, we keep an eye on what is popular, and what..Isn’t. Lately, fans appreciate your singing videos, but not all the skits you had posted, claiming they want their gaming back. Whiny little brats,” Google Blue said simply.

“Hey!”

“I’m not apologizing,” the android said.

Bing walked past Mark, phone nowhere to be seen.

“Bing!”

The Android turned.

“What up?”

“Have you been screwing with my Twitter?”

“Yes,” he said easily.

“Why!”

“You had part of a tweet sitting there for about an hour, and the blinking cursor begged me to add on, dude.”

“It was blinking because I fell asleep.”

“Them’s just the breaks, broseph.”

Mark sighed.

“Where’d the phone go, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s the only phone we have in the house, so Wilf and Dark like poofing it away where we can’t reach it.”

“That’s...Shit, dude, I didn’t realize you guys didn’t all have a phone.”

“Heh, I don’t need a physical phone to do what I need to get done, neither do these bubs.”

“I resent being called Bub,” Green Google piped up.

“I think it’s trivial, but laughable,” Red chimed in.

“Are you really getting upset over a nickname?” Google Yellow challenged his sibling, artificial mirth twinkling in his eyes.

Google Blue sighed and went back to check statistics, jotting down some things and walking to another part of the room, checking the camera footage to see if the Septics had been staying away.

The phone poofed back into Bing’s hand and he scrolled through Mark’s social media, eyeing it up and checking to see that everything was where it needed to be, only to come to the conclusion that Twitter had been added on to.

“So, um, your fans are concerned.”

Google Blue looked up from where he was working, narrowing his eyes.

“What did you do?”

“Hey! I didn’t do anything this time!”

Mark groaned, flopping down on the floor.

“Can you track who did it?”

“Ummmm, lemme se-”

“Give me that.”

Google Blue swiped the phone from Bing, laying his finger on the screen, closing his eyes, his chest humming as he tracked the words, watching them be typed, and listening through the microphone to who was speaking when it was being typed before blinking back on, eyelights dimming down and chest going back its normal beating.

He handed the phone back to Bing.

“Main computer room, next to the game room. Wilford suggested what to type and Bim initiated the writing. Surprised you couldn’t tell from how over the top it was. Turns out you just don’t know your own characters.”

Mark frowned.

“I…”

“Haha, nice! Up top!”

Bing lifted his hand for a high five and Google stared at him until he lifted his other hand and high fived himself, putting his hand back down after that, grumbling as he wandered over to the computers and peered over Yellow Google’s shoulder.

“So, they’re in the computer room?”

“Should be, but you’re wasting time and they might have left.”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’ll head out. Bye.”

The human male went up the steps and out the door, closing it after him before eyeing the key that hadn’t left his pocket, and locking them in, heading on his way. They’re robots, a door isn’t going to stop them, but it made Mark feel slightly better knowing he made their day worse.

Heading down the hall, Mark listened to his footsteps echo in the uncharacteristically empty house. It got like this every time he went on tour, or to panels. The Egos acted like he had abandoned them, and he guessed he had…

Shaking it off, Mark entered the main computer room, eyeing Bim who was scrolling through a laptop, Warf sitting on the lip of the couch, both of them looking up what was going on in the outside world.

“..Tidepod memes?”

“You have to admit, they do look tasty.”

“..You’re an idiot.”

“No, I’m a game show host.”

The door slammed shut behind Mark and he jumped, yelping, drawing the attention of the two other men in the room.

“Howdy, sport.”

“How’s the tour?”

“It’s alright, I guess. I’m tired all the time, but I wouldn’t wish for anything else.”

“Eh, makes sense.”

Wilford rolled his eyes, stretching.

“So, why’d you come to visit us if you’re soooooo busy?”

Bim smirked and Mark glared, frowning, recalling why he was here in the first place.

“Google says you’ve been fucking around with my Twitter account?”

“Ah, that’s ridiculous.”

“We haven’t written anything our dear creator wouldn’t.”

“But you do admit to writing tweets?”

“Yeah, but if that’s seriously all you’ve come from your tour to do, not even just say hi, you can just expect more ridiculous things to pop up over time,” Bim said simply, glaring at the screen.

Mark raised a brow.

“...Are you angry at me not visiting?”

“No.”

Wilford chuckled and Bim shoved him backward off the couch. He just poofed right back into place, sticking out his tongue.

“He is. He won’t admit it, and neither will Dames, or anyone else, but it gets lonely here when there’s not a constant influx of new videos. It’s rather boring.”

“Awww, guys, that’s so cute!”

Bim glared, huffing and looking away.

Mark frowned.

“Does it really get so quiet when I’m not actually doing anything?”

Wilford and Bim grew quiet, exchanging glances.

“Guys?”

An uncomfortable silence was settling.

The house creaked.

“We won’t mess with your social media anymore..You have a tour to prepare for, so you should leave.”

“Guys-”

“Leave, Mark.”

“But, Guys-!”

“GET OUT!”

Mark recoiled at the voices doubling up as both Bim and Wilford yelled that last part, quickly backing up to the door before fumbling for the handle and opening it, hurrying out of the room.

Once out of the room, he looked around, frowning down at the key in his hands. The house was quiet, and it was safe to say the others were in their rooms. The house felt...Dead.

The man sighed and checked his watch. It was wiped blank. Time didn’t exist here. If he walked out of the house, he’d be right back where he started, with only a minute or two having passed, despite him being him in the realm he was currently in for at least half an hour now.

He sighed again and pocketed the key, headed toward the door, feeling very unwelcome as he shuffled quietly down the hall and toward the entrance.

Who was he to dictate what they did?

They weren’t leaking information or anything bad, they were just playing...They were just trying to get his attention, and he snapped at them.

He went to grab the door before pausing, hand above the handle.

Taking a breath, he turned on heel and headed straight for Ed and Silver, both of which, once again, booed him.

He rolled his eyes and thought quietly before reaching into his pockets and producing phones for them, adding his own number and giving it to them.

“I don’t talk to you all nearly enough...This way, you have a way to contact me.”

The two Egos raised a brow and held their phones, before grinning.

Mark smiled sadly and headed back toward the computer room. He walked in and Wilford and Bim both bristled.

Mark tossed them their own phones, once again adding his own number.

“That way you don’t have to keep stealing Bing’s. Also, if you ever wanna text, even if to just bitch and moan about me, I’m right there.”

Wilford raised a brow, checking his contacts before texting Mark.

Mark rolled his eyes.

“I won’t see that until I get back in my own world, but I’m sure Amy will find whatever you said amusing.”

Wilford and Bim immediately started texting the new contact number non-stop, and Mark groaned.

“You’re hitting on my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Nah, we’re spamming all your secrets.”

“Guys!”

The two chuckled and Mark laughed a bit himself before leaving and giving everyone else their own phones, gathering them all together and explaining the functions and what-not, letting them exchange numbers with each other.

“Okay, I gotta go get some sleep, but now I can take you guys with me on tour, okay? I’ll send videos, I’ll send pictures, I’ll even probably text you when I’m sleep-deprived.”

The Jim Twins hugged their creator, and he smiled, ruffling their hair and heading back for the door.

*  
Taking a breath, the Asian waved goodbye and then left the realm, locking the door behind him and stepping back onto the tour bus, blinking in the new light.

He was greeted by Ethan grabbing a water bottle from the tour bus fridge, raising a brow.

“What’s up?”

“Hmm? Oh, I just wanted to check what was going on out there before the show.”

“Fair. Ya going back to sleep?”

“Yeah, Amy already changed my info, so there shouldn’t be any more tweets from the mysterious person.”

“Okie-doke.”

Mark wandered back to his area of the bus to find Amy laughing at the phone in her hands, which was binging non-stop as texts from all of the different Egos rolled in.

“You gave them phones?”

“Yeah, they were getting lonely.”

“So, was it actually them messing with the account?”

“Yeah, specifically Bim, Wilf, and Bing.”

Mark settled back in his bunk, laying his head down and sighing slightly, settling into the gentle warmth of the blankets.

“Wilford is complimenting my hair. He says you should dye yours again.”

The male rolled his deep chocolate brown eyes.

“Warfstache ain’t making me do shit.”

Amy replied to him what her boyfriend wrote and Wilford texted back an angry emoji.

“He doesn’t appreciate that.”

“Just like Wilford Warfstache doesn’t take no shit, Markiplier doesn’t take no shit from nobody,” Mark chortled, doing an impression of the journalist Ego’s voice as he spoke.

Amy giggled.

“Go to sleep, you doof, I’ll keep them pacified.”

“Thank you~ Love you.”

“Love you too, now sleep.”

Mark nodded and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Amy watched him with soft eyes before going back to texting, giving the Egos her own number so they’d have contact with her after she headed back to LA. 

They seemed happy to finally have someone to talk to again.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost made this very sad


End file.
